


'Someone to Stay': A rainy day story of simple love

by kadewasnothere



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Yearning, not sure what to say just read to the end its worth it, rainy day, some jon angst, they r simply cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadewasnothere/pseuds/kadewasnothere
Summary: ...“Ah-ehm, here it is, a sweater you can have- uh borrow, just don’t spill any coffee on it, it’s one of my favorites,” Martin laughed sheepishly and tried to read Jon’s expression, but he was still staring right through him.“Jon?” He reached out and placed his hand on Jon’s, who shook his head, as if clearing misted thoughts, and looked at Martin again, now with intention.“Ah, yes sorry, thank you, Martin, you really didn’t need to but I appreciate it.” Jon felt badly spacing out, but that blue, there was something about it.“No worries,” Martin realized his hand was still placed gently on Jon’s and began to quickly pull it away, but Jon grabbed it and held it for a moment.“Thank you” He let go of Martin’s hand but saw his cheeks begin to flush again and had to hold back a small smile. Martin nodded curtly and moved out the doorway towards his office down the hall...
Relationships: Also Martin Blackwood/Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	'Someone to Stay': A rainy day story of simple love

**Author's Note:**

> (the title is from the song 'Someone to Stay' by Vancouver Sleep Clinic,,, listen to the playlist I made while writing this called 'TMA: Jon and Martin' by kade.thebell on Spotify)
> 
> Takes place in S3/4 but is not perfectly canonically accurate bc Martin would be more distant and Jon wouldn’t be staying at the archives, but it still works pretty well. This is the first fic I’ve written, shoutout to Mica and Piper for helping me out w/ editing. 
> 
> Kind feedback appreciated :)
> 
> Enjoy!

It was pouring buckets, pattering heavily on the cobblestone outside the institute, and which made seeing anything difficult. It’s a wonder Jon was able to see his car through the rain, but he managed to make it safely into the driver’s seat and shut the door behind him.

He breathed heavily for a moment before collecting himself, shuffling around to reach in his back pockets for his keys. He found them and pushed them into the ignition with a satisfying *click* and heard the car rumble to life. Then, he took a moment to look outside his front windshield and realized he could never make it home in a storm like this. _Shit_. He had never been the best driver and in the pitch-black rain? Not a chance. 

He grumbled to himself as he acknowledged he would have to make the dash back into the institute through the biting rain and wind. He snatched his jacket, which he had stupidly left in the car, and pulled it on over his already soaking wet forest green sweater. He hesitated for a few moments but finally grabbed his keys, pushed open the door, and made a run for the institute, almost slipping on the slick cobblestone on his way. 

He made it back to the entrance and the big wooden door creaked as he opened it as quickly as he could and slipped inside, shutting it behind him. He breathed heavily again and grumbled as he meandered his way through the hallway, down the stairs to his office. Opening the door he was more than a little surprised to see Martin sitting in Jon’s usual chair, feet up on his desk, a book in one hand, and the other reaching for a cup of tea. 

“Martin!” He sounded more outwardly surprised than he meant to and stepped back a moment, just behind the door’s threshold. He hadn’t seen Martin around the institute much recently, as he was usually helping Peter Lukas with… well he wasn’t quite sure.

“Oh Jon, I- uh-hi!” Martin fumbled with his book a moment and Jon could see his cheeks grow a nice shade of blush. Martin quickly put his feet down on the ground and went to stand up but Jon spoke first.

“No, I-it’s fine Martin. What are you doing here?” He was trying to look him in the eye but Martin was avoiding eye contact.

“Uh well- could you not-,” Martin stuttered out, seeming a bit overwhelmed.

“Oh shit- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, sorry,” _Fuck!_ Jon kept doing that, and he never meant to, especially never with anyone he worked with (besides maybe Elias but he wasn’t sure if it even worked on him). It was becoming more and more difficult recently to just ask simple questions without using his … powers? He didn’t like to call them that but didn’t know what else to refer to them as. 

He shuffled his feet a bit, still outside the threshold, and waited. He still was curious as to why Martin was here so late, and in Jon’s office, but didn’t want to compel him to say anything.

“It’s fine, Jon, I know you don’t mean to,” He paused a moment before continuing, “I just find it cozier here and had some work to finish so thought I would just do it here…”

It didn’t make the most sense, all the offices were pretty much the same save for the abundance of tape recorders and stacks of messy papers and statements all over the floor in Jon’s. But Jon nodded his head and that seemed to quell the blush in Martin’s cheeks, although he wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not. Martin looked ready to leave, when he noticed that Jon was dripping wet and he stopped himself.

“And what about you, Jon? You’re soaking to the bone!” Martin gestured, first to Jon and his sweater heavy with water and then to the small puddle forming under where he stood. 

“Well I was going to drive home, but I’m a bit of a shitty driver to start, so in this kind of storm, especially at night, I don’t trust myself to make it home,” When he said that he saw a pang of something flash in Martin’s eyes. Fear? Worry? He looked down at the puddle at his feet and continued. 

“So I decided to come back and stay here for the night, seems safe. And I forgot my coat in the car, so.. yeah” He trailed off, worried he was blabbering on too much, but looking back up at Martin that didn’t seem to be the case, his blue eyes focused so clearly on Jon’s face. 

“Do you have another shirt to wear?” Martin seemed genuinely a bit concerned as if Jon would catch a cold, and Jon wondered if he even could catch a cold anymore. He saw no reason to lie.

“No, I used up all my extra clothes after the last attack and forgot to bring more from home,” He hesitated and added “But don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine” Without missing a beat, Martin replied.

“I- uh- I can go grab you a sweater of mine, ever since Jane and the tunnels and everything, I kept a few extras around,” The blush crept back up his face and Jon glanced at his cheeks, taking note of the soft red color. Martin saw Jon look and turned away quickly and mumbled,

“Uh yeah I’ll go get that,” Martin got up from the chair (Jon’s chair) abruptly and shuffled his way past Jon out the door and suddenly tripped, his foot caught on the threshold. By instinct, Jon stepped over and grabbed Martin’s shoulders to catch him from falling, his hands and shoulder pressing for a moment into Martin’s chest. He noticed how soft his sweater was and gently dug his hands into the knit patterns covering Martin’s arms before Martin quickly pulled himself away and back upright. Before he walked off towards his own small office, Jon caught his eye and noticed his blue eyes were wide, in surprise maybe, and the blush on his face had brightened from a soft pink to an almost strawberry red. 

They paused there for a moment, looking at each other and Jon could feel his face heat up, so he turned away. Martin stuttered out an apology before also turning to go. 

“Sorry- I ah, my bad,” He said quickly and quietly, walking down the hall.

“It’s okay,” Jon mumbled in a whisper he thought too quiet to hear, but from the brief pause in Martin’s gait, he knew he heard it. 

Jon waited one more brief moment before passing over the threshold to enter his office and sitting down in his chair. As he was still dripping wet it was a bit uncomfortable, and he noticed it was slightly warm and realized Martin must have been sitting there for a while, probably since just after he left his office. This didn’t help the blush still rising up his face so he distracted himself with shuffling papers around on his desk, looking for a case he had been working on. If he was stuck here a while he might as well do some work, he always had trouble sleeping in the institute anyways, felt like it was always watching. Well, he knew it was always watching. He wondered if Elias lived here or went home at night, wondered if he was watching him right now. 

He tried to push the thought aside and pulled out a folder on Elizabeth Fairchild, who he suspected was somehow connected to Simon Fairchild and by association, The Vast. He had barely any leads but she lived in an apartment complex a few blocks away from the institute for a few years and moved away two days after Gertrude’s death. With the location and timing, he didn’t think it was a coincidence. Thanks to the Web he didn’t think anything was really a coincidence anymore. 

He was thumbing through the few papers in the file as Martin walked in and placed a folded blue sweater on the desk corner. Jon looked up, glancing from the sweater up to Martin’s eyes, and noticed they were the same color, his sweater, and his eyes. A beautiful blue like the open sea during the calm before the storm. Martin felt that Jon wasn’t actually looking at him anymore, rather looking past him, and wanted to break the uncomfortable silence. He cleared his throat

“Ah-ehm, here it is, a sweater you can have- uh borrow, just don’t spill any coffee on it, it’s one of my favorites,” Martin laughed sheepishly and tried to read Jon’s expression, but he was still staring right through him.

“Jon?” He reached out and placed his hand on Jon’s, who shook his head, as if clearing misted thoughts, and looked at Martin again, now with intention.

“Ah, yes sorry, thank you, Martin, you really didn’t need to but I appreciate it.” Jon felt badly spacing out, but that blue, there was something about it.

“No worries,” Martin realized his hand was still placed gently on Jon’s and began to quickly pull it away, but Jon grabbed it and held it for a moment.

“Thank you” He let go of Martin’s hand but saw his cheeks begin to flush again and had to hold back a small smile. Martin nodded curtly and moved out the doorway towards his office down the hall. 

Jon felt a little disappointed he hadn’t decided to stick around his office and this feeling surprised him. He had never found Martin particularly helpful when researching statements and they weren’t more than colleagues, not like how Tim used to be friends with all the staff. But maybe he missed seeing Martin around the office as much, he was always off and Jon barely ever got a chance to talk to him.

His sweater was still cold and damp so he grabbed the bottom hem and peeled it up and off his torso, hanging the wet fabric on the back of a hook on his door in an attempt to dry it. He winced as he looked down and saw the many scars etched across his chest and arms, in intricate patterns that would almost be beautiful if they weren’t reminders of his pain. From the worms and previous encounters with some unkindly avatars, the white slash across his throat.. And plenty more. So he grabbed the blue sweater and slipped it on hastily. He didn’t like to be reminded of Jane Prentiss and of being kidnapped and of the other horrors that lurked around the institute and was angry the scars on his body constantly reminded him of it all. 

The sweater was as soft as the color blue in its thread and it surprised Jon. Usually when he borrowed anyone else’s clothes they were itchy and didn’t fit right. But not this, this sweater was like a kind hug, even if it was a few sizes too big, it hung loosely around his shoulders and the sleeves extended past his fingertips. He folded up the sleeves to his forearm and tucked the front of the sweater into his jeans so it didn’t look quite so silly.

He sat down to continue his delve into the life of Elizabeth Fairchild but was distracted by the sweater, picking at the threads and being enthralled by the calm blue of it. All the clothing he wore was dark greens, browns and sometimes reds, nothing blue and nothing ever this light. He was still just looking at Martin’s sweater draped on his arms, playing with the sleeves when he saw something move by the door. 

It caught his attention and a shock of fear ran up his spine and out through the rest of his body He jumped up from the chair and grabbed a heavy torch from the desk drawer. The weight of it in his hand calmed him down slightly, enough for him to breathe and take his time looking out his door and in the direction of the movement. He walked slowly and steadily down the hall as his mind raced. What could it be? Is it an avatar or a monster? How did they get into the institute? He thought of Martin in the office down the hall and his heart beat faster, worry filling his chest. Was Martin safe? 

His pace quickened down the hall, which led out to the break room and he whipped around the corner, just to see Martin standing by the stove heating up some water for tea and rifling through the cupboards. Hearing the footsteps behind him Martin turned, also a bit on edge, but relaxed when he saw it was Jon, for some reason pointing a torch at him. 

“Uh hi, Jon?” Martin sounded confused and Jon realized he hadn’t dropped his defensive stance and dropped the torch and stood up more casually. “You good?”

“Yeah, sorry just a bit jumpy, since… everything.” Jon felt bad for hunting down what ended up just being Martin trying to make tea.

Martin chuckled softly, in a way that caught Jon off guard and made his heart flutter a bit. 

“It’s alright, I admit I’ve been jumpy too. So, I understand,” This made Jon smile a bit, just to hear that someone else knew what he was going through. They never really talked about how they were dealing with everything that had happened, usually just went about their work, minded their own business. Maybe he didn’t mind talking so much, at least with Martin. Speaking of which, Martin was still going through the cupboards and getting to an almost frantic pace.

“What are you looking for?” Jon was genuinely curious.

“Tea! I can’t find any tea and normally I would just run to the store, but-“ He gestured at Jon but then realized Jon had in fact changed into Martin’s dry sweater, and was no longer dripping wet from the rain. “Oh, you changed.” Martin looked Jon up and down for a moment, seeing his sweater on him was odd, something he had thought about but never thought it would happen. “It looks good on you, Jon” The breath was caught in his throat, making this last ‘Jon’ sound more desperate than he meant, which made a smile inch onto Jon’s face.

“It’s quite comfy, I can’t complain.” The smile continued to play on Jon’s lips as he saw Martin blush hard for the second time this evening, the pink backdrop making his freckles stand out. “And I could just make us some coffee if there’s no tea left. I know it’s not your preferred hot drink but-” 

“No that would be great Jon, thank you.” Martin shuffled to sit down at the small table in the center of the small kitchen area that served as the break room. 

Most of the employees in the institute drank tea, partially because Martin would offer it to anyone he could and it just seemed to be a favorite. So seeing as Jon and Elias were the most avid coffee drinkers, they hardly ever ran out. And he was right, there was plenty of coffee so he prepared it how he preferred, pouring the water Martin had been boiling for tea over the coffee grounds and letting the stained and flavored water drip down into two mugs. He handed Martin his first, then poured his own. He grabbed some half and half out of the mini-fridge and sugar from the counter and placed them on the table in front of Martin, then sat down. 

He expected Martin to make a move for the sugar or at least some half and half, but he just sat there, blowing absentmindedly on his steaming coffee and looking at Jon expectantly. After a brief moment, Jon spoke as he uncapped the half and half and poured a generous bit into his mug.

“You don’t want anything in yours? Just black?” Reaching for the sugar now he spooned a heaping pile in. Martin nodded thoughtfully, 

“My mum used to make coffee for us in the mornings before…, well, a while back. And she never remembered sugar or any cream, so I got used to it. And eventually, I grew to like it. The bitterness, not overloaded with other flavors or sweets just to cover it up.. no offense.” He chuckled softly, as he had before, and again it made Jon’s heart flutter in a way that was less surprising the second time around. 

They sat in this silence, not awkward like before, but more comfortable now, and just sipped their coffee, occasionally catching the other’s eye and darting their eyes away. Almost like a game. After a bit, Jon broke the silence with a suggestion.

“We don’t have to stay here, we can work on a case or two alongside the coffee.”

Martin nodded in agreement and they both stood and walked back into the hall, towards the small offices of the archive employees. Jon stopped at his door and pushed it open, stepping into the comfortable room he had been in not 30 minutes before, but he felt Martin walk past him towards his office and-no that’s not what he wanted.

He grabbed Martin’s wrist as he passed by to stop him. The way he held it he could just barely feel his pulse under his fingertips and he could have sworn it started to speed up. Martin’s breath caught in his throat with a soft “Oh-” as Jon held a firm grip on his wrist and led him into his office, Jon’s office. When they both stood inside the doorway, Jon dropped Martin’s wrist gently and paced to the corner of the room where sat a vacant chair and pulled it up the desk beside his own. 

“We’re the only ones in the institute, no reason not to work together,” Jon walked around to sit in his own chair and scooted it over a little so they were evenly sat in front of the desk. He picked up the file on Elizabeth Fairchild again and placed it open on the desk as Martin sat down next to him.

“Alright, so this is Elizabeth Fairchild, mentioned in passing in a few statements from the 1990s and lived in an apartment near the institute until she moved out two days after Gertrude’s death, which doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me. After that, we weren’t able to track her down but I found a letter she wrote to her mother from around four months ago confirming she was still safe and well, but eluded to some strange happenings that might point towards her alignment with an entity and working towards a ritual of some kind,” He paused to take a breath, he had gotten in the habit of rattling off long-winded paragraphs of information. 

“Did you say her last name was Fairchild? Like Simon Fairchild?” Martin asked, with some kind of urgency in his voice that usually came out when he was discussing a case with a known avatar.

“Yes,” Jon responded “Yes, like Simon Fairchild. Which makes me think this entity Elizabeth is aligned with is the Vast. And if she is working on a ritual for the Vast, then I am a bit worried, as Gertrude in her notes never mentioned a ritual, so preparation for this one might have been going on for a while. So I suggest we-“

Suddenly the lights cut out and Jon felt Martin’s grip on his arm and he jumped, from both the absent lights and Martin’s hand on him. But Martin didn’t let go as he had earlier been so quick to do, instead, he gripped a bit harder onto Jon’s arm and the soft blue sweater covering it. Jon leaned into the firm grip and grabbed Martin’s wrist with the same arm, but that put his hand at an awkward angle so he dropped it. Both of them still in darkness and silence, Martin traced his hand down Jon’s arm, eventually landing around his wrist and this was too slow for Jon, who grabbed his hand. 

Martin’s breath hitched for a moment, almost imperceptible, but in this dark and quiet room, Jon noticed and gently laced his fingers in Martin’s, hoping to calm his breathing. It of course did not, and Martin laughed softly under his breath, Jon squeezed his hand and then spoke.

“Seems like the storm shut off the power, which I guess makes sense “The generator should kick on any minute, but we can go check the breakers just in case. Oh! And there are some old statements in the electrical room that might have more info on the Fairchild’s, we can grab those as well.”

Jon took the torch from his desk that he almost threatened Martin with earlier, and clicked it on, accidentally shining it in Martin’s eyes. He turned away from the bright light quickly, covering his face with one of his hands, still holding Jon’s with the other. 

“Ah sorry,” Jon was struggling a bit to grab the torch properly with only one hand, but he didn’t mind. 

Eventually, they were sorted out, Jon with a torch and Martin with a hand free to open doors, both of them holding each other’s hand as if something depended on it. The breakers were in the storage closet down the hallway, so they made their way down the darkened corridor, only lit by the beam of Jon’s torch drifting from the floor to the walls and back again. The floorboards creaked under them and the wind howled outside, they both pressed up a little closer, not afraid but rather cautious of the horrors they knew lurked in the dark. 

They made it down the hall and Martin, with his free hand, cracked open the door to the storage closet, and the scent of old wax and mildew drifted out to greet them. 

Jon walked to the far wall to switch the breakers back on, but nothing happened, although he heard them humming with electricity.

“Alright well it might take a bit because of how old this place is, but the generator should come to life soon enough,” Jon didn’t like the dark much, but he had Martin and they had torches, so it would be fine, he was sure of it.

Martin hesitantly let go of Jon’s hand to grab a box of statements, and Jon let it happen. Martin reached to one of the top shelves and pulled out the box, labeled ‘Fairchild the super old dude’, probably jokingly by Tim a few years ago. The cardboard box fell into his arms, causing a few years worth of dust to poof into the air, sending Jon coughing. 

“You okay?” Martin watched Jon almost kneel down in a coughing fit, and put the box down quickly, placing a hand on his back in a concerned gesture. Between coughs, Jon responded. 

“Yeah…. Yeah… I had… asthma as a… kid…” His coughing began to die down. After breathing and collecting himself for a moment, he finished his sentence, “And sometimes it acts up, really it’s fine.”

Jon looked up from kneeling towards Martin and saw the worry etched in his face, told through the lines knitting his brows together and the concerned look in his eyes. He really was okay. But for someone to look at him with such concern, it’s something he hadn’t seen for a long time and he took a moment to revel in the feeling. He didn’t know how long it would last before other things became too important, before Jon was no longer a concern of Martin’s. 

“Really, Martin, I’m okay.” Jon tried to keep his tone reassuring and it worked because Martin’s blue eyes softened and he seemed to relax a bit. Martin picked the box back up and they made it back to Jon’s office, him leading the way with the torch. Once back in the office they began to unpack the files of statements, some from more recent years and some from many decades ago, but all in some was connected to the ‘Fairchild’ name. 

Jon pulled out a second torch from his desk drawer that he only just remembered was there and handed it to Martin, who flicked it on and scanned the light over the statements laid out before them.

They settled back in their chairs and began to quietly thumb through anything they could find related to Elizabeth or a possible Vast ritual. They worked like this, silently in the focus light of the torch beams, for ten minutes or so before Jon became aware of Martin again. He tended to get so focused on his work he tuned out any outside distraction, including other people, which didn’t always serve him the best. 

But now he noticed Martin was...shaking? No- shivering, he was definitely shivering. And now that Jon had been drawn out of his work he noticed just how cold the room had gotten and began to feel a chill creeping through his body. He wondered why Martin hadn’t said anything yet and felt bad for not realizing sooner.

“It’s gotten cold in here,” Jon remarked and Martin jumped a bit, startled out of his focus by Jon’s voice right next to him. 

“Yeah, it has,” Martin was still shivering and not trying to hide it, “But we can’t do much, the power is out and it’s too stormy to get somewhere else warm. But I’m sure the generator will kick in.. eventually.”

“Oh, not an issue,” Martin looked a bit perplexed, but Jon had slept in the Archives enough times to keep a comfy blanket in the bottom of the filing cabinets in the back of the room. He got up and sauntered to the cabinet, pulling out the bottom drawer as Martin watched him, he pulled out a big comfortable looking quilt. It had seen better days but still looked plenty warm and cozy. He walked back to the chairs and offered it up to Martin.

“Here, this will keep you warm.”

Martin seemed hesitant to take it.

“How about you Jon? It’s your blanket so you should take it I’ll be fine,”

Neither of them liked this answer, as they waited there, Jon with his arm outstretched and Martin ready to grab it. 

“You know penguins huddle together for warmth.” Martin blurted out and immediately his face was flushed a bright pink and he turned away a bit. He wasn’t looking at Jon anymore and waited for him to react.

“Penguins must have the right idea” Jon hadn’t realized until now that that was what he needed, just someone to stay warm with, someone who cares to look out for him. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to give up this chance now. He wrapped one side of the blanket around Martin’s and pulled their chairs closer so they formed a small bench, then sat and wrapped the other side around himself.

Martin looked back towards him and those blue eyes were filled now with so much love and care Jon couldn’t help but scoot a little closer and wrap the blanket a little tighter. Jon rested his head on Martin’s shoulder and could feel how tense he was so pulled back and looked at Martin again.

“Is this okay?” He didn’t want to push it and knew this was unexpected but it felt…right.

“Yeah.. yeah.” Martin tried to keep eye contact with him but it was tricky. “Jon you know, I like you right, like, as more than a coworker and more than a friend. I like you, Jon”

“I know Martin, and I’m pretty sure I like you too” As soon as he said it he knew it was true, he liked Martin. And Martin liked him. “Yeah, I’m sure I like you too Martin.”

Martin’s shoulders fell in a sudden release of tension and it seemed like he was about to sob, because he was relieved or overwhelmed neither of them knew. So Jon wrapped his arm around Martin’s shoulders and guided his head gently to his lap, Martin didn’t resist at all and turned his body so he could rest his head comfortably on Jon. 

And there they sat for the longest time, Jon playing with Martin’s curly sandy blonde hair, twisting it around his fingers, and Martin tracing patterns onto Jon’s other hand laying on his chest. Both of them looking so kindly and warmly into each other’s eyes, Martin’s as vast and blue as a sea before a storm, Jon’s deep and brown and all-knowing. 

At some point after the generator kicked back on and before the storm quelled, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.


End file.
